"Fellowship" and "Community"

One thing that has always bothered me since my conversion is just how bad Catholicism is at providing a community.  If you walk into jut about any Evangelical church in America, they'll warmly welcome the visitor and someone will decide that you're their new best friend.  They'll invite you to small groups, or Sunday School, or to some big upcoming event.  You know what Catholic Churches don't do?  Sunday School and small groups.  They also don't sit next to people they don't know.  People come with their families, their spouse, or the people they've sat next to since childhood.

I was ruminating on that tonight at the Mass.  No one was on either side of me, an island alone amidst the pews of people.  As I looked around during the homily, I saw that while I was alone, I was not alone in that.  Any place there was a person who came alone, there was a void.  No one dared come close, none dared extend  a simple greeting other than at the Sign of Peace, where the person who came alone must wait until those who came with others have finished. 

It made me think of how long it takes to become part of even the margins of that "in-group" in my experience since converting to Catholicism.   After I converted it took 2 years of 7am Masses for people to talk to me.  Then I moved to doc program; took 3 years of prison ministry and book sales and weekly Mass attendance for people to start talking to me.  Then moved for a temp one year, never had anyone speak to me. I moved here two and a half years ago, and never get a word from others unless I don't wear a coat and an old woman wants to scold me; any attempt to go to an event is met by again sitting alone, even to the point where others will sit down and then move. 

It really does seem that people in Catholic Churches hate sitting next to strangers, so people always come in couples and sit by themselves, or with family, or people they've sat near their entire lives.  Likewise, unlike Evangelical churches, no one sings, and those who do are looked at askance.  Just a rumination after a homily about community and fellowship, and how we're all one big family; because the Lord knows, it sure never feels that way.